


Worth the Effort

by wesleysgirl



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-13
Updated: 2013-04-13
Packaged: 2017-12-08 08:52:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/759474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wesleysgirl/pseuds/wesleysgirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Trope: Virginfic/Secretly a Virgin<br/>Huge amounts of thanks to Verucasalt123 for the beta.</p>
    </blockquote>





	Worth the Effort

**Author's Note:**

> Trope: Virginfic/Secretly a Virgin  
> Huge amounts of thanks to Verucasalt123 for the beta.

“Dean,” Sam gasped urgently. “We can’t.”

“I know,” Dean said, and kissed him again. “You’re right, we can’t.” He started to slide down to his knees, but Sam’s big hand closed roughly on his arm and hauled him back up.

“No.” Sam squeezed Dean’s bicep, grinding muscle against bone to keep his attention. “Dean, no. I know you want to --”

“Pretty sure I’m not the only one who wants to,” Dean said. He leaned forward against the hardness of Sam’s erection, making his point without words.

“We _can’t_.”

“Fine.” Dean wrenched himself away from Sam and stalked over to a spot of pavement under the street light. He wasn’t sure what he was more angry about -- that Sam had to be so damned _right_ all the time, or the circumstances, or just knowing that he was being left high and dry _again_.

It had started weeks ago, after a night at a bar where they’d both had a little too much to drink. They’d stumbled back to their motel room and Sam had gone to take a shower. Dean went in to brush his teeth at the same time Sam shut off the water and stepped out of the tub; their eyes met in the mirror, then Dean’s gaze was drawn downward to the water tracing its way south along Sam’s skin. Then there’d been casual touches that were in no way casual, building until five minutes ago, when with one breath they’d been arguing and with the next they’d been wrapped around each other, kissing so hard that nothing else in the world existed.

“Don’t be mad,” Sam said. He sat on the hood of the car, watching Dean with worried eyes that made Dean feel like an asshole because he didn’t know how _not_ to be mad, considering.

“I’m not,” he lied.

“Yeah, you are.” Sam sighed and looked down at the road. “It’s complicated.”

“No shit, Sherlock.” Dean rubbed his hand along the back of his neck. “Doesn’t get any less complicated if we talk about it, so let’s not. Okay?”

“Okay.”

They were both quiet for a minute.

Then Sam started, “It’s just that I’ve never --”

“I _know_ ,” Dean said, loudly and directed at the sky. Of course they weren’t supposed to do this, though the more he’d thought about it the harder it was to remember why. Gay sex was wrong? He’d never bought that, not when there were fucking gay penguins hatching eggs together and mating for life or whatever the fuck else gay birds did. Because they were brothers? The reason people who were closely related weren’t supposed to fuck was because they might have freaky genetic mutant offspring, and unless they’d somehow flipped into an alternate universe where guys could get knocked up, that wasn’t an issue for them.

Wait.

Sam hadn’t said _We’d never_.

He’d said _I’d_ never.

“Wait,” Dean said. “You’ve never what?”

Sam lifted his gaze and looked at Dean, and Dean could see the uncertainty in Sam’s eyes. “You know.”

“If I did, I wouldn’t ask.” It was hard not to sound frustrated when Sam was being so cryptic, but as usual Dean had spoken before he’d thought, and now that he’d had time to think for a few seconds... “Been with a guy?”

Looking down at the road again, Sam nodded.

“Aw, Sammy. Are you telling me you’re a virgin?”

Sam’s head snapped up, eyes flashing. That was good -- Dean preferred him angry to tormented. “ _No._ You know I’m not.”

“Okay, just an ass virgin,” Dean said agreeably, grinning when Sam looked even more pissed off. “Are you seriously that freaked out about it? No, come on, I’m serious.”

“I can’t believe I have to say this you of all people, but I don’t want to talk about it,” Sam said. He stood up and started walking away from Dean, back in the direction they’d come, like he had no intention of stopping.

Dean watched him go for longer than he should have -- but not as long as he usually would have -- then sighed and got behind the wheel. The road wasn’t very wide, but they were in the middle of nowhere so he was able to turn around smoothly without needing to make a three point turn, even if it meant driving over the dirt shoulder. Sam was still walking determinedly; when Dean pulled the car up next to him, he didn’t turn his head.

“Dude,” Dean said.

Sam ignored him.

“ _Sam._ Get in the car.” Dean sighed and eased up on the gas pedal so that the Impala crept along at the same speed as Sam. “I promise we don’t have to talk about it. Just get in the car. Come on, it’s late. I want to get some sleep.”

Finally, Sam stopped walking. Dean stepped on the brake and waited, and after a few seconds Sam opened the passenger door and got in.

They drove to the nearest motel. Dean had been exaggerating; it wasn’t really that late, and he wasn’t anywhere near ready for sleep. Sam disappeared into the bathroom as soon as they’d set their bags down and didn’t come out for a good ten minutes -- when he did, he was faintly flushed, his eyes glassy, and Dean couldn’t help smirking.

“What?” Sam said, defensive.

“Jerk off.” Dean tried to look innocent, like he was just calling Sam a name and not accusing him of what they both knew he’d been doing behind the closed door. “You hungry?”

“No.” That had to be a lie. Sam was always hungry.

“Cool.” Dean had already turned the TV on; now he started flipping through the channels, pausing occasionally until Sam, propped on the other bed, would get interested before changing the channel again. He could tell by Sam’s sharp little exhales that Sam was getting more and more annoyed, which for some reason was exactly what Dean wanted.

He could keep this up all night. Not that that was his intention.

Oh hey! Porn.

Tossing the remote down onto the bed beside him, Dean got more comfortable and settled in to a weird place where his eyes were on the screen but all the rest of his attention was focused on Sam. Sam’s breathing, Sam’s occasional shifting on the bed, the fact that Sam could be getting a book or his laptop or whatever but wasn’t. Dean risked a sideways glance in Sam’s direction -- predictably, Sam was staring at the TV.

It was pretty traditional, guy with two girls porn. The blonde girl was straddling the guy’s face, but the camera’s focus was on the redhead who was sucking cock like she was gagging for it. (She was too professional for that, Dean figured.)

“This okay?” he asked, mostly because he wanted to hear Sam’s answer.

“Sure,” Sam said gruffly. “I mean... whatever. It’s fine.”

Dean smirked some more. He waited another ten minutes, until porno guy was fucking one of the girls from behind, hands on her waist pulling her back to meet his thrusts, then glanced over at Sam again before reaching casually for the waistband of his jeans and undoing them. He moved slowly, not looking to see if Sam was watching him.

“Guy knows how to fuck, I’ll give him that.” Dean shoved his hand inside his pants and curled his fingers around his dick.

Sam cleared his throat, then didn’t say anything.

“What?” Dean said.

“Uh.” Sam hesitated, then asked, “Do you --?”

“Do I what?”

“I mean. I know you’ve done it with guys.” Sam’s gaze was resolutely fixed on the TV screen. “But... have you ever...”

“Dude, spit it out. What do you want to know?” Dean’s hand was still around his dick, but he was starting to hope, again, that tonight it might not be just him all by his lonesome after Sam was asleep.

Sam rolled onto his side to look at Dean. Dean looked back steadily, watching as Sam took in the sight of him, jeans undone, cock in his hand. On the TV, one of the girls was moaning loudly, gearing up for her porno orgasm.

“You. Have you? Ever fucked a guy when it was his first time.”

Dean resisted the urge to roll his eyes at the implications. Whether he had or not -- and he had, more times than he probably should have considering deep down he was pretty sure he was a selfish asshole -- if he fucked Sam, he was going to be careful. He’d been taking care of Sam his whole life. No way would he forget that now. “Yeah.”

“Did they like it?” Sam’s jeans were pulled tight over his dick, which was hard again even though it had only been half an hour since he’d jacked off behind the closed bathroom door.

“Can’t say we spent any time talking about it after.” Dean might as well be honest. “But I think they did, yeah.”

“You think I would?” Jesus, Sam’s eyes were huge and dark; they made Dean’s breath catch in his throat, and he had to swallow before he could answer.

When he did, his voice barely sounded like his own. “Come on over here and let’s find out.”

Sam nodded. He sat up, swinging his freakishly long legs down onto the floor, then stood. Slowly, he took off his shirt and dropped it to the floor. The rest of his clothes followed with less deliberation, so by the time he joined Dean he was naked and Dean was more than a little overwhelmed. He wanted Sam, but he hadn’t expected to get all of him at once like this.

“Is this okay?” Sam asked, then kissed him before he could answer.

Dean fumbled for the remote, smacking it until the TV shut off -- or at least went mute, that was good enough -- and then put his hand to better use, twisting his fingers into Sam’s hair at the back of his neck and tugging until Sam’s chin lifted, baring his throat. Dean sucked at the tender skin there hard enough to bruise, turned on even more when Sam whimpered and clutched at his hip.

“Dean. Please.”

Yeah, Dean liked that. Wanted to hear Sam beg, because there was no way he was doing anything Sam wasn’t sure about unless Sam asked him, repeatedly and preferably in a desperate, broken voice. “What do you want, Sammy?”

“Your clothes off, for one.” Sam tugged at his waistband. “Don’t screw around. You want a yes? This is a yes, Dean. Yes to everything.”

Dean wouldn’t have guessed that Sam saying it like that would be so hot, but it was. “You want me naked?”

“Well, I sure as hell don’t intend to lose my ass virginity while you’re dressed.” Sam grinned at him, open and sure of himself all of a sudden, and Dean found himself scrambling out of his clothes and kicking the covers down so he could get his hands on Sam faster. He didn’t remember until his jeans were around his ankles that they were going to need a condom and some lube, and even though he didn’t want to wait another second he forced himself to find what they needed because interrupting things was just going to get harder the longer he put it off.

“Is that what you want?” he asked as he pulled Sam close again and then rolled on top of him.

“What, you?” Sam ran both hands up along Dean’s back. “Yeah, that’s what I want.”

Dean kissed him hard, shoved his cock along Sam’s belly. “You want me to fuck you?”

Looking up at him, Sam nodded. His lips were a little swollen from Dean’s kisses, slightly parted as he breathed.

“And you’ve never done it before.”

“No,” Sam said. “One time, when this girl was, um, you know, she kind of. With her finger.”

That could mean any of a hundred things, but Dean was pretty sure he understood. “While she was sucking you off?” Inspired, Dean slid down along Sam’s body to his dick, which was kind of intimidating, and lick along the length of the shaft. Sam groaned softly and Dean reached for the lube, squeezing more of it out than he’d intended in his haste. “Did she do this?” He teased at Sam’s hole with a lube-slick finger.

“Yeah.” Sam trembled as Dean’s finger circled, then pushed -- not inside, not yet, but soon. Dean mouthed at Sam’s dick, sucked at the head a little as he slowly eased his finger into the hot clench of Sam’s body. What had seemed like too much lube a minute ago was just right now.

Sam tasted like salt. Dean nudged at Sam’s inner thigh with his wrist and Sam obligingly spread his thighs another couple of inches. That was good; it gave Dean more room to work. He slid his finger deeper, curled it so he could press against Sam’s prostate, licked around the head of Sam’s cock. Some day, when he was feeling _really_ relaxed, he’d let Sam fuck him. Not tonight, though. Tonight he was going to fuck Sam, slow and sweet, until Sam was sweat-soaked and coming around his dick.

He fucked Sam with his finger until Sam was relaxed and open and loving it, cock hard in his mouth. Dean wasn’t always a fan of sucking cock -- it depended on the guy and the cock -- but he was dying to fuck Sam, and Sam being into it was vital to his plan. He’d do just this for hours if that was what it took to get Sam there.

“You have to -- Dean, _stop_.” Sam was tense, shaking, and Dean got that Sam was on the verge of coming and didn’t want to. Which was cool -- Dean was okay with Sam holding off if that was what he wanted. For now. He pulled his mouth away from Sam’s dick and watched it twitch.

“Easy there, big guy. Breathe.”

“Fuck. You,” Sam panted.

“Maybe next time.” Dean slid his finger most of the way out of Sam and then pushed two inside, careful to give Sam time to adjust to the change. “How’s that?”

“Good. It’s good.” Sam shut his eyes and bit his lip like he was concentrating, and Dean watched him, taking his cues on what to do from how Sam was reacting. Sam lifted his hips when Dean nudged his prostate and gasped open-mouthed when Dean carefully added a third finger.

Shifting to get comfortable, Dean thrust his fingers slowly in and out of Sam’s ass, feeling the heat of him. Every once in a while he sucked Sam’s dick for a few seconds -- not long enough to take Sam to the edge, but enough to tease him. It wasn’t until Dean pressed the ball of his thumb to the sensitive spot under Sam’s balls that Sam’s breathing shifted into short cries.

“Dean. C’mon, please, just -- do it. I want it.”

That was what Dean had been waiting for -- maybe not those exact words, but the sentiment. Feeling like all he’d been doing was waiting made him more than a little impatient suddenly, and he fumbled the condom out of its wrapper and onto his dick. “Like this? On your back? Or do you want to turn around?”

“I don’t _care_ ,” Sam said. “Just hurry.”

Dean made a quick decision. “Okay. Get up. No, don’t look at me like that, you might not care, but I do.” He wouldn’t say that the reason he cared was because he thought this way would be better for Sam, even though it wasn’t as unselfish an idea as it sounded on the surface. If Sam ended up being into this, that meant more sex for Dean.

He got Sam arranged how he wanted him, hands and knees, and knelt close behind him. Told himself his hand wasn’t shaking at all as he guided his dick to Sam’s hole, hot and slick with lube. Told himself to take it slow, to be gentle. He remembered the first time a guy had shoved inside him. It hadn’t been slow _or_ gentle, and his ass had hurt for at least two days afterward.

“Jesus, Dean.” Sam shuddered as Dean eased forward.

“Okay?” It took everything he had to talk, even just the one word.

“Yeah. But, I think.”

Dean waited for Sam to say more, eased inside him a little further. Christ, Sam was tight like a clenched fist. This wasn’t gonna take long. “You think what?” he asked finally, when Sam didn’t finish.

“Oh God, Dean,” Sam whispered. “I’m gonna come.”

Dean didn’t hesitate -- he slid his hand around Sam’s hip to his cock and closed his fingers around it, stroked it once, and yeah, that was all it took. Sam came, his ass tightening around Dean’s prick with so much force that Dean saw white, lost his breath, forgot to move. He couldn’t even come himself, just hung onto Sam and waited for the hot crush of Sam’s body to ease. When it finally did, he thrust in carefully, knowing it would be over in seconds, and groaned as he came, clutching Sam and panting against Sam’s spine.

“God.” Sam shifted underneath him, solid and amazing, his back vibrating when he spoke. “Dean. Get off me.”

Oh, right. “Give me a second,” Dean muttered, and Sam gave him a hell of a lot longer than that but didn’t complain about it as he peeled himself away -- fuck, he was gonna need a shower, he was sticky with sweat -- and disposed of the condom by dropping it to the floor. He figured it wasn’t the worst thing that had ever been on the cheap motel carpet. “Jesus.”

“Uh huh.” Sam tugged one of the pillows closer and made himself comfortable on what was, after all, Dean’s bed. But it’d probably be rude of Dean to point that out.

“You weren’t planning on sleeping here, were you?” he asked anyway. Sam smacked him. “Hey!”

“I just let you take my ass virginity,” Sam grumbled. “Now you want to kick me out of bed?”

“It’s not like I was asking you to sleep on the floor,” Dean said. “There’s another bed, like, three feet away.”

“Then you move to it.” Sam reached down and pulled the covers up, and Dean sighed and decided it wasn’t worth the effort -- not the argument _or_ moving to the other bed.

That was definitely why he was staying put. It didn’t have anything to do with the fact that Sam was warm and weirdly comforting pressed to his side.

Nope. Nothing at all.

“You better not snore,” Dean said, and promptly fell asleep.


End file.
